His Dancer
by Cowpie Surprise
Summary: Nobody pays attention to Meg, the little blonde girl off to the side. But, with everyone gone and just Meg left, Erik begins to get ideas that won't keep him lonely anymore. ExM ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own POTO**

**His Dancer**

**Chapter One**

Meg didn't know what to think now. Her best friend, Christine, was gone with Raoul, her mother had somehow turned sour since the fire and possibly the Phantom's death. The opera was closed now, and she wondered why no one bothered to reconstruct it. Meg and her mother, Madame Giry, had bought a small house not far from the opera. All the other ballerinas were sent home to their families, causing Meg to lose her friends. The only place she felt better now was going to the opera's ruins, and to sit in the comforting silence.

In fact, she was doing it just now, sitting on the stage with her feet dangling over the edge. Every sound emitted from her echoed among the majestic place, making her feel more lonely than ever. Meg stood up. Her pointe shoes were not on, but still she could dance. She imagined the chairs were full of people again, and her ballerina friends were all around her, dancing beside her.

Her footsteps made a dull thudding noise against the wood on the stage, but all Meg could hear was the orchestra playing the lively music that kept her energetic and alive. Finally, the music in her mind stopped, and Meg ceased her dancing. It was like the sun had come out from behind a cloud, then slipped back behind another one.

Meg sighed, making sure to exaggerate it so the empty opera house could hear it.

"Isn't there anyone left?" Meg said aloud.

She expected silence.

"I guess I'm going crazy!" Meg continued. "Talking to myself like this. Unless someone's out there, listening to me right now. Hello, you." Meg was sure she had gone over the edge.

Meg sighed again at the quiet that replied to her. She had almost hoped the Phantom was alive and listening to her right now, perching on some rafter high above and watching the small blonde girl talk out into the ruins. Meg stepped carefully off the stage, running her fingertips over the dusty velvet chairs as she made her way to the front hall.

As the footsteps echoed among the marble steps, Meg stared up the stairs into the darkness. She had not gone up there since the fire. Not knowing why she was actually doing it, Meg started up the stairs.

She snuggled into a small seat in Box Five. The Phantom's Box. She peered over the railing to get a glimpse of the opera from way up. It was so quiet, and the chair was so comfortable, Meg could not resist closing her eyes for a short time…

Meg's eyes fluttered open. By the darkness that surrounded her, she knew the sun had already set. Anxious to get home, Meg sprang up from the chair and headed back to the hall.

"Where are you going?"

Meg screamed. She turned in every direction, trying to find out where the voice had come from. She began to walk faster to the hall.

"You asked if anyone was left, did you not? I am left!"

"Please, go away!" Meg cried, trying to find her way in the darkness.

Her foot found the stairs, but not in a good way. She tripped, tumbling down the marble steps, and landed crumpled on the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Cylobaby: I think I would be scared about meeting the Phantom :**

**Sirrius's Sister: Yes, E/M is the best!**

**Phantomgirl110: Sure, thanks for asking!**

**DrgonheartRAB: I love E/M!**

**Scorpion's muse: Sure, and and here it is!**

**Justy or Don Juanita Triumphant: Thanks for telling me that! I took your advice during this chapter.**

**Twistedeverywayforerik:Thanks for the encouragement!**

**I love reviews! They're so wonderful, I eat them! Just kidding. But I do love them! Keep reviewing :)  
**

** Jen**

**His Dancer**

**Chapter Two**

Meg woke up in the softest thing her tired body had ever laid in. She loved the smell of it too, like soft lilacs. She finally opened her eyes and gasped.

"So you've awaken," a voice said from the shadows.

Meg could just barely see a figure in the darkness.

"Who are you?" Meg asked fearfully.

There was a chuckle. "Who else?"

"The Phantom of the Opera," Meg whispered.

"Precisely. I'm surprised it took you long enough," Meg could feel him grinning.

"Why am I here?" she said finally.

"Simple. No one is left but us two," he returned coldly.

"I have my Maman," Meg shot back.

"She is not happy anyway. Your disppearance has made no difference to her," the Phantom answered.

"How can you say that! My Maman loves me!" Meg cried.

"_Loved_ you. She doesn't love you now!" the Phantom yelled. "If she did, I wouldn't have brought you here!"

"Well, you've brought the wrong person. I won't be all happy like Christine was!" Meg said hotly, confused so she changed the subject.

"Don't ever mention Christine again!" the Phantom roared.

"Don't you tell me what to do!" Meg screamed.

Why was she arguing with him like she was his mother? She would get nowhere about why she was here if they always talked like this.

"It was a mistake to bring you here," the Phantom replied.

"It was," Meg crossed her arms and looked away.

Both were silent for a while.

"I'll leave you one day to think about this."

Just then Meg realized there had been an open door, and the Phantom waved his arm to shut it. Meg gaped at the magically closed door, then looked back to the shadows where the Phantom had been. He wasn't there anymore.

Meg hugged her knees and sighed. What was there to think about? She didn't like being down here, with no windows to show her the outdoors. She had slept when the Phantom left, then woke again, thought of nothing, then slept again. Now she was awake. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since she left home to go to the ruined opera house. She felt dirty, also. Feeling uncomfortable about bathing in the lair of the Phantom, she decided to put off her hygiene for now. But she was hungry.

"Hello?" Meg rapped on the door lightly. "Phantom, um, sir? May I have something to eat?"

There was no reply. Meg jiggled the knob to find it locked and grumbled. Funny how she had chosen yesterday to wear ribbons in her hair and not pin it up.

_If I just had a pin, I could pick the lock,_ Meg thought sadly.

Then again, staying in this room might be better. Who knew if the Phantom could be right outside the door holding his Punjab Lasso? Or worse…Meg began to get a little frightened and searched the room to find something to use as a defensive weapon. She found some very expensive-looking dresses in a dresser. The next drawer had shoes and sashes and scarfs. The following drawer contained some undergarnments and stockings. All this made Meg feel very queasy. At the bottom drawer there were a few candle holders, good for throwing. Then, underneath the dresser on the floor, was a shard of glass.

_Where could the glass have come from?_ Meg tilted her head slightly. It was not a very big piece, about seven inches long in the shape of a skinny triangle, tinted a light blue. The glass itself was quite thick and easy to use when close up. If used correctly, it could be a deadly weapon. Meg smiled at what was on her side. She stopped when she thought of the Phantom's advantages. He knew the place well. He was stronger. He was a magician. They poured out one by one and clouded Meg's brain, shattering her confidence. She finally tucked the shard between her side and a piece of ribbon on the dress she was wearing.

"Might as well go back to sleep," she said to no one, going back to the bed.

"Wake up!" someone jerked Meg's shoulder.

Meg's eyes sprang open. It felt like she had only been asleep for a second. She peered up at the Phantom.

"I heard your request for some food, and I went and got some. Here." He held a glass of wine, a small loaf of bread, and cold meat out to her. Meg took the food gratefully.

"Th-thank you," Meg said, shivering a bit.

"Not need to thank me. You'll be down here for quite a while."

"Don't you have a name?" Meg asked.

"'The Phantom' is all you need to know," he answered.

Meg put the food down. "Oh, really?"

"Really."

"Can I guess your name?"

"No."

"James."

"NO."

"Edward?"

"I said no!"

"John? Jack? Alexander? Kevin?" Meg kept them coming.

"I told you no, and I meant it, so if you don't stop right now, I'll—"

"Erik."

The Phantom froze in midsentence.

"It IS Erik isn't it? Oh, I'm so good. Nice to finally meet you , Erik, sir," Meg smiled, then remembered she was addressing the Phantom of the Opera, a murderer, and stopped.

"So it is," Erik muttered.

Meg bit into the loaf of bread, then said, "How long do I have to stay cooped up in here? Can't I walk around?"

"No," Erik said tursely.

"Why?" Meg crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly, her look for challenging people.

"Why not?" Erik answered through gritted teeth. "This is a cozy room."

Meg stole a glance at the open door behind Erik, then grinned.

"What is that--?" Erik asked.

Meg jumped up and bolted for the door.

"Hey!" Erik shouted as the ballerina slipped past him and out the door. He quickly followed. "This isn't funny!"

Erik caught up with Meg, who was apparently staring at his desk. He quickly gathered up the papered that were strewn ocver it.

"Aww…" Meg whined. "Those were pretty pictures of Christine."

"They're none of your business!" Erik said hotly, crumpling the papers up and thrusting them in a drawer.

"You're a good artist," Meg made too big of a smile, totally forgetting the argument they had had earlier.

"Go back to the room," Erik ordered.

"I'm not your child. If I'm to stay here, I get to do what I want!" Meg began to walk away.

Erik grumbled as he gave in.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for reviewing, everyone! There were so many of you, I couldn't answer them all, and I intend to keep it that way! ;) Anyway, in other words, keep reviewing, please!**

**His Dancer**

**Chapter Three**

"Will…you…stop…that…idiotic…THUMPING!" Erik roared.

Meg stopped, but not as easy as Erik thought she would. "It isn't 'thumping'! It's dancing! Can't you tell after all those years of watching Chris—"

"I told you not to mention her!" Erik snapped.

"You're so stubborn!" Meg spat.

"Be careful about who you confront." Erik said darkly.

"Oh, really?" Meg retorted. She put one hand over the right side of her face. "Blah blah blah, I'm the Phantom, blah blah blah, nobody loves me, blah blah blah, point of no return!"

"That's it!" Erik raced over to her.

Meg, forgetting that her life was on the line, squealed and took off. Though she knew she was doing something foolish, it would be entertaining.

"I can kill you for that!" Erik was working his way through a maze of desks and papers and figurines.

"At least I'll die knowing I got to make fun of the Phantom of the Opera!" Meg called back. "AH!" she tripped on a paper and slammed to the ground.

"You won't get away this time!" Erik sneered.

Meg suddenly remembered her shard of glass. She whipped it out and held it threateningly out at him. "Ha!"

Erik stopped. "Where do you get that?"

"Um…I found it. Why?"

"Give it to me."

"Tell me why first."

"Give. It. To. Me."

Meg made her challenging look again. "Not unless you tell me."

Erik sighed. Meg smiled. Did he give in that easily?

"It's part of a stained-glass I was making."

"Really? Of what?" Meg asked excitedly. She stopped. She didn't want to lose her only defensive weapon.

"All you need to know is that it's for a stained-glass picture. Now, give it to me," Erik demanded.

Meg shook her head. Tucking it back where she had put it before, Meg turned on her heel to return to the food she had abandoned in her room. Erik grabbed her arm and stopped her. He brought her close to his face.

"Give me the shard."

"Is it that important?" Meg queried.

"Yes," Erik answered.

"Unless you show me, I won't give it to you."

"You know I can kill you."

"You say it all the time and you don't." Meg replied.

Erik swiped the shard from between her side and the ribbon and pocketed it. "There."

"That was unfair!" Meg snapped.

"Not everything's fair," Erik muttered, and began to walk off.

Swift footsteps behind him told Erik Meg wasn't going to give up easily.

"I'm going to look at this picture," Meg stated boldly.

"You…can't," Erik said slowly.

"Why not?" Meg challenged him again.

"It will be dangerous," Erik answered.

"How so? It is just a shard of glass!" Meg scoffed.

"Because," Erik stopped walking. Meg realized they had just passed through a long corridor and were at a big wooden door. When Erik opened it, there was the roof.

"Oh my," Meg gasped. She stared out onto the snow-covered roof. Statues of mythylogical creatures stood in there threatening poses over the city, and she saw another door far off, probably to the backstage. She pushed it off and gazed out at the city, then up at the clear night sky. She turned to see Erik gone. She had just seen him slip up a statue onto a higher part of the roof.

"Hey!" she called. "Where are you going?"

Erik did not reply. Being the stubborn person she was, Meg climbed up upon the statue and onto the tilted roof. A little uneasy from being high up, Meg backed down, but seeing the Phantom walk briskly along the edge made her feel determined, and she slipped up onto the slanted rooftop. She groaned when she saw Erik climb higher. Set to follow the man, she climbed even higher, getting closer to the starry night.

"Erik!" she called, trying to stand up, wavering a bit. He was staring down at something. The shard glinted in the moonlight. Meg squinted hard. What was he staring at? She took a small step, and a bad one.

"ERIK!" Meg slipped, tumbling down the snow-capped roof.

Erik had turned when Meg had shrieked out, in time to see her take the horrifying fall. Erik was quick from years of sliding into the shadows and being on the rooftop so many times. He stepped expertly down as the ballerina then fell onto the tilted part of the next roof, tumbling faster. Erik jumped from the highest roof, racing her before she fell to the ground many feet below. Just as the girl was about to plunge, his arm shot out and caught her. He noticed she had fainted from shock. Slowly pulling her towards him, he cursed about letting her come with him up here. She was drenched from rolling among all the snow that lay on the roof, and he carefully carried her back down the roof.

Warm water enveloped Meg. Her eyes fluttered open and she found herself in a washtub. Her wet dress hung nearby, drying. Another dress lay neatly on the floor, next to some hot tea. A note was on the dress, reading, "Meg—I felt uneasy undressing you, but you had to get out of those wet clothes. Don't worry, I've gone out, and YOU ARE NOT TO LOOK FOR ME."

Meg smirked at the last words that were capitalized. She felt good soaking in the hot water. She dunked her head under and sighed with pleasure. After savoring the feeling, she climbed out and dried herself, then put the dress on. She felt soothed drinking the hot tea, then left the small room and wandered into the hallway.

_He saved me, _Meg thought happily. _I guess I do mean something to him. Then again, who couldn't stand to watch a girl fall off a roof. I'm sure maybe anyone else would have done the same._

Still, Meg's heart soared.

** LoL Meg trips a lot doesn't she? Clumsy. LoL just kidding. After all, Meg's a graceful balletina! **


	4. Chapter 4

Hi all. I'm sorry I haven't updated. 

My pathetic excuses are: My physics and english teachers banded together by both giving me huge projects due on the same day to keep me away from Fan Fiction. .

I'm very sorry. I'm still working.

But, since it is Thanksgiving Break, I think I can manage another chapter this week. Just to let you know. Love you all.

Jen

**His Dancer**

**Chapter Four **

Meg poked around the kitchen, and finding an apple, began to eat it to satisfy her stomach. She explored the study where Erik had stuffed his paintings on thin paper of Christine and a grin spread across her face. Yanking open the drawer, Meg shuffled through the mess of papers. Each was delicately done and Meg laid them gently next to her, digging deeper into the drawer. A journal with a leather cover lay at the bottom.

Meg reached in and pulled the small journal out. She ran her fingers over the binding, then, without hesitation, opened it and began to read.

They were notes. She saw sketches of Christine, notes about operas, and other things. Meg searched eagerly for anything about the stained-glass picture, but found nothing. She scooted away from the drawer so the lamp could shine better on the journal.

A slam cause Meg to scream and jump up, turning to find Erik behind her with a hand on the now closed drawer.

"S-sorry," Meg said, barely above a whisper. She held the journal out to him.

She could tell he was angry. Very angry. He whipped out his hand and the journal flew from her hands and landed with a soft thud on the ground.

"Never do it again. Understand?" he growled.

Meg shivered and didn't answer.

"Well!" Erik roared.

Meg turned and ran as fast as she could to the rooftop door, crying. Erik didn't bother following. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she peered over the edge of the rooftop at the streets of Paris. It was too early for anyone to be out. Meg cried more. She leaned against a statue of a rearing pegasus and watched the starry night sky. Soon, dawn would come.

About while later, Meg's crying had ceased. The eastern sky began to pale. Somewhere far off, a bird began to sing. Meg's stomach growled, reminding her of the abandoned apple laying on Erik's desk.

She had to get out. She had to escape. But she couldn't. She listened to the bird singing off in the distance and sighed. All she wanted was to go home.

"I was so stupid!" she cried out into the quiet morning. "I shouldn't have read it. Then maybe we could've gotten along!"

The bird had stopped singing, obviously startled at Meg's voice. Meg felt like crumbling to the floor. She rubbed her arms wishing she had a shawl.

"I'm sorry," Erik appeared behind her. Meg let out a little gasp."I shouldn't have yelled at you. I...I know I scared you."

Meg nodded, biting her lip. Erik held his hand out to her. "Now come. There's something I must show you."

With no hesitation Meg took it and Erik gently pulled her up. "Where are we...?" Meg started, but Erik held a finger to his lips, and she stopped.

He helped her step onto a statue and onto the roof. Meg smiled. He was finally going to show her what he had been working on the whole time. They walked on the tilted roof and up to where Meg had fallen before. Somehow, she felt more steady this time. Maybe it was because Erik held her hand all the way. Erik stopped short, and outstretched his arm to show her his work.

It wasn't what she had imagined. It was pieces of colored glass on the roof, showing a rose with a pale blue background, not a window at all.

"But why make one if no one is to see it?" Meg queried softly.

"Because," Erik replied, "this is for you."

"Me?" Meg gasped.

"Yes. I...I'm going to release you now. But if ever you should feel like you need help, and I shall not always be there, come here. It will listen. It will here you pain. Then, I will too. And I will come to you," Erik explained.

Meg was terribly confused. He was letting her go? This glass picture could understand her? She gasped. He was letting her go.

"But why?" she asked.

"You are not happy here. You want to go home. And, because I love you," Erik said quietly.

Meg just stared at him in awe. He loved her. Bending his head, Erik lightly kissed her on the lips. Before he could pull back, Meg returned it, longer and more meaningful than his.

When she finally let go, she realized they had both started crying. Did she really want to leave him? Erik gently took her hand and led her down, back to the rooftops with the statues. A small sliver of sun was showing. Erik walked faster, and pulled her inside. He led her through confusing halls and corridors, and before she knew it, she was on the stage in the opera. Before she could turn around to protest to Erik, he vanished.

Meg stood alone on the stage.


	5. Chapter 5

**YES! I HAVE UPDATED! I HAVE FINALLY GIVEN UP THE HOPE OF TRYING TO FIX MY OTHER COMPUTER WITH THE OTHER CHAPTERS FOR THIS STORY ON IT! –sob-**

**I'm so sorry I've kept you. Slap, kick, punch me if you will. I deserve it.**

**His Dancer **

**Chapter Five**

"Meg!" Mme. Giry rushed towards the pale thin girl that had entered their small home. "Where have you been? You've been gone for two days?"

"Maman, would you believe me if I told you?" Meg stared into her mother's weak gray eyes.

"Of course, darling," Mme. Giry wrapped her arms around her daughter.

"I have been with the Phantom of the Opera," Meg said straight out.

"Oh my--! Has he harmed you in any way?" Mme. Giry cried.

"Of course not, Maman. He was so gentle. And he saved me, when I almost fell off the roof, he caught me," Meg smiled.

"You almost fell off the roof? The roof of the opera!" Mme. Giry cried fearfully.

"I am alright now," Meg rested her hands on her mother's shoulders reassuringly.

"Oh, Meg, my darling Meg. I was so frightened for you," Mme. Giry said.

"Do not fret yourself. I am here now," was the gentle reply.

Mme. Giry nodded. "Have you eaten anything since then, Meg?"

"Of course. He fed me, too. I am, obviously, hungry now," Meg said, and went into the kitchen.

"There are some sweet rolls on the table, and I can make tea," Mme. Giry stood up to put the kettle on.

Meg nodded and took a roll and bit into it. She wandered around the small house as the water boiled and her mother steeped the tea. Her mind kept weaving back to Erik, so mysterious, and yet so loving. Meg sighed, finished her roll, for she had been ravenous, and went to get another.

Harsh coughing was emitted from her mother's throat as Meg passed by her.

"Maman! Are you alright?" Meg cried, placing her hands on her mother's shoulders once more.

"I am fine, dear. Here, the tea is ready. I need to rest," Mme. Giry sighed, coughing again, this time much worse.

"Maman! Have you seen the doctor?" Meg said worriedly.

"That is not for you to worry about for now. We shall talk later," Mme. Giry stumbled to her little room and closed the door.

Meg felt like crumbling, staring at the steaming tea in her hand and the sweet roll in the other. Something was wrong with her mother, and worry began to cloud her.

**I know it's short! I'm updating again!**


	6. Chapter 6

**His Dancer**

**Chapter Six**

Meg had remembered her mother had been sick before, weak from old age, but not so much as bad as this. The coughs were strange and funny, and did not bode well for the future. Meg became extremely worried as her mother rested more often, her cough getting worse and worse. Finally, she could stand it no longer and sent for a doctor.

"I am sorry to say she has tuberculosis," the doctor sighed after checking her mother.

"Will she live?" Meg began to cry.

"I do not know. We must see how she fights such an illness. I must say though, I don't believe there is much hope," he said, shaking his head.

Meg's tears poured over the brims of her eyes and flooded down her cheek.

"Let me see her," Meg whispered, and without waiting for the doctor to permit her to do so, Meg pushed past him and into her mother's room.

Mme. Giry turned to look at Meg and smiled. Meg cried harder. Her mother was so weak, so pale.

"Maman," Meg sobbed. "Fight this, Maman. Do not leave me!"

"I am trying not to, darling," was the wizened reply.

"I have practically no future without you, Maman. I need you to help me get by," Meg cried.

"I will not die, Meg Giry. Dry your tears and pay the doctor," Mme. Giry ordered firmly.

Meg wiped the tears away, but they came again as she bid the doctor farewell as he walked away with the money. She went back to her mother, but Mme. Giry had fallen asleep again. Meg's tears constantly weaved their way down her now damp cheeks as she fixed dinner. She carried a hot plate to her mother, and woke her, encouraging her to eat, but Mme. Giry would not, declaring she was too tired.

"She is dying," Meg thought sadly as she ate the plate herself.

Meg had not stopped crying during the night.

Days grew into weeks. Meg felt she would drown herself in tears. Her mother finally could not move out of bed and she lay in the cot, becoming thin and frail.

"It is as if I brought bad luck with me when I returned from Erik," Meg would tell herself.

The doctor made more frequent visits. Each time his news got worse, until, one frightening day, he emerged from the room and dared not look into Meg's eyes.

"You must say your goodbyes now," he said, still afraid to meet Meg's gaze.

Meg flew into the room, sobbing.

"Maman! Don't leave me! What would I do without you?" Meg wept to her mother.

"Meg…" her mother said so hoarsely she didn't even sound like herself. "Be strong."

"Maman, _you _keep me strong. I shall surely fall if you die," Meg choked out the words.

"Go…to him…" Mme Giry breathed, then her eyes slowly clouded over.

"Maman!" Meg screamed, and at this the doctor came in, shaking his head. He closed her eyes.

"I am very sorry," the doctor said, his eyes filled with sadness. "I shall pay for the funeral, if you would please."

"Thank you," Meg whispered, staring at her mother, gone forever.

In a few days Meg dressed herself in black and said her final goodbyes to her mother. She had never forgotten her mother's last words and almost wanted everything to go quickly so she could do it.

Meg sold everything, every piece of furniture, item, and finally the house. She made sure she hadn't forgotten anything for selling, for she wouldn't need it. She put the money in a small purse she did keep, and took her coat.

Finally, Meg closed the door of her small home in which she had lived in for such a short time, and without looking back, walked briskly down the street to the destroyed Opera Populaire.


	7. Chapter 7

**His Dancer**

**Chapter Seven**

Meg had remembered the rooftop she had seen when she had flown from Erik when he was outraged with her. She remembered seeing a door that had probably led to backstage, and she went into the empty opera house and backstage. She found stairs and wandered up them, and found another flight, making sure she always went up. She finally saw a small door and went through, satisfied at the sight of the rooftop full of statues of the mythological creatures.

Remembering each step, Meg climbed upon the statue and onto the small slanted roof. There was less snow this time, but Meg still watched her step, knowing no one would be there to catch her this time. Or was there?

Perhaps Erik was standing off to the side watching her every step as she climbed towards the wonderful gift he had given to her. And, if she were to slip, he would be upon her to make sure she did not lose her balance again.

Meg came to the picture and sighed.

"Erik…Maman has died," Meg said to the image of the rose. Then, an old song came back to her, one that she thought she wouldn't remember ever again, the song she had sung to a dear friend when her friend had believed in a power so strong, that it would free her into the realm of music.

"Angel of Music, guide and guardian  
grant to me your glory.  
Angel of Music, hide no longer  
Secret and strange angel."

Meg sang, knowing she would never be as good as Christine, but feeling comforted with singing the small tune.

Meg felt a chill come over her and she wanted to turn, but was almost afraid to. She finally forced herself to turn.

Meg was not surprised to see Erik standing behind her. He smiled darkly.

"Your angel is here."

**I know it's short, I'm sorry!**


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